Foundry Musings
by casa-dilla
Summary: Several unrelated one-shots about everyone's favorite Team Arrow couple (Oliver/Felicity centric) with several other characters showing up. Most are short drabbles written from tumblr prompts.
1. Dishes and Laundry

Short drabble from the prompt of Oliver and Felicity doing 'domestic' things. Will update occasionally. Most are longer than this...

* * *

"Oliver!" Felicity screeched, pulling another moldy container out of the small apartment size fridge in the lair.

The man in question was at her side in an instant. "What? What is it?"

"I thought you were going to clean this out," Felicity answered with a look of disgust on her face at the container she'd just opened. "Ugh, it looks like a science experiment gone wrong in there."

"I got…busy," Oliver answered.

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him. "We all had an agreement when we got the fridge— that we would not let this place turn into a frat house."

Oliver chuckled, but when Felicity's face betrayed no hint of amusement, he sobered quickly. "I'm sorry, I'll get it taken care of."

Felicity nodded, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and returning to her seat behind her wall of computer screens. She stole glances at him as he dutifully emptied the fungus filled containers (she may have smirked at the sour expression on his face, but she hid it well). Felicity watched as his muscles flexed cleaning out the containers in the sink. She cleared her throat and focused her attention back to the computer, wondering idly if perhaps this was the first time Oliver had ever done dishes.

It had been a momentary frustration, and now Felicity almost felt bad about yelling at him. But the lair had been turning into the aftermath of a high school party recently and if there was one thing Felicity could not handle, it was crumbs in her keyboard. (Well, to be more precise it was rats and mice in the lair, but she couldn't even bring herself to think about that.) But Oliver finished quickly with the dishes and then went to work picking up the discarded t-shirts that littered the floor and counters.

He walked them back to the washing machine and then called to Felicity. "Do we have laundry soap?"

Felicity smiled behind her computer screen, lifting her head just enough for her eyes to meet his across the room. "Should be in the cabinet over there," she answered back, watching him turn back and look. When he came up empty handed, Felicity stood, her heels clacking across the floor as she joined him by the washing machine. Pulling open the only cabinet that Oliver had failed to open, she produced the detergent and handed it to him.

Oliver cleared his throat, keeping her from leaving. "How much do I use?" he asked, seeming a bit embarrassed.

Felicity took the detergent, peered into the washer to gauge the amount of clothing and then filled the cap to the first line. "There you go," she said with a smile.

"Thanks," Oliver said, taking the cap and bottle from her, their hands brushing on both accounts. They were standing close, too close, if Felicity were being honest.

"You, uh… might want to take that one off," she said, her eyes slowly meeting Olivers. "I just mean, you uh, must have spilled something on it when you were cleaning out the fridge." She turned bright red. "You should wash it right away to keep the stain from setting."

Oliver nodded, dumping the soap into the washer, replacing the cap and pulling his shirt off all in one quick motion. Felicity swallowed hard, averting her eyes and taking a step back. She felt their closeness even more now.

"Okay," she said, hooking her thumb over her shoulder. "I'm just going to… go over there, and get back to work."

And as she turned to head back to her computer, she thought, for just the briefest moment, that she saw an amused smirk on Oliver's face, content that he'd gotten her back for yelling at him. Felicity took her seat back at her computer and one thought stuck in her mind. "Touché, Mr. Queen," she said under her breath. "Touché."


	2. One Look

Prompt: Can you do like a Laurel angst drabble thing when she sees just how deep Oliver has it for Felicity?

A/N: I love all the favorites, really I do... but I'd love you all FOREVER if you'd leave me a little note and review. :) I promise I'll give you all the Olicity fluff you can stand if you'll leave me some love in return.

So, onward with the writing. :)

* * *

Laurel sat in the hospital room beside her father, trying to keep her mind from going over the long list of worst-case-scenarios of what could be going on with him. Sometime that night he'd gotten a broken rib and other internal trauma that caused him to collapse in her arms. She tried not to think about it, really she did, but the problem was, any time she didn't think about her father, all she could picture in her mind was the way Oliver looked at Felicity. Laurel and Felicity had stood nearly side by side, both on the verge of being killed by a psychopath, both in imminent danger, both looking to him to save them. And Oliver's eyes almost never left Felicity.

How long had he had feelings for Felicity? How long had Laurel been blind to them? She stood from the low chair beside her father's bed and stretched her stiff limbs. She checked her watch— she'd been asleep for a few hours and she felt less like a zombie and more like a human being. She wandered the halls, seeking out coffee, getting some feeling back into her legs, splashing cool water on her face to refresh herself a bit.

The hours dragged on that way, trying not to think about her father, trying not to think about Sara leaving, trying not to think about Ollie and Felicity. Wandering and napping and checking on her father. He woke up every once in a while, chatted aimiable with her, telling her that he was going to be fine and that she should go home. But she never left his side, not for any longer than her quick trips for food or for sanity.

She was awake when they came in, a day later, maybe two. They stood close to each other in the doorway, both avoiding eye contact with each other, but she could almost see the energy between them now. It struck her again and she wondered once more how she could have missed it.

"Laurel, hey," Felicity said with a tense smile. "How's Detective La— I mean, how's your father?"

Laurel ran her fingers through her hair uncomfortably, wondering how terrible she must look after two days of being in the same clothes. She stood, releasing her father's hand and walked toward them at the door.

"He's doing… better," she answered quietly. Her throat was dry and her voice croaked like she was holding back tears. And maybe she was. She hadn't let herself even begin to try to process anything that had happened. Being kidnapped, Sara leaving, Oliver being the Arrow.

She met his eyes now and he pulled her into a hug.

"I'm sorry I didn't make it sooner," he said into her ear. "I had some business to take care of."

Laurel cleared her throat, removing herself from Oliver's embrace. "It's alright. You didn't have to come at all."

"Of course I did," he answered. "Your family is like family to me, you know that."

Laurel nodded and resumed her seat beside her father. Felicity's phone rang and she excused herself to answer it. Laurel could see her in the hallway, blonde hair bobbing in her ponytail as she spoke animatedly. Her eyes went to Oliver and she found that he too was looking at Felicity.

"You looked at me that way once," Laurel mused, almost to herself.

Oliver, caught off guard and seeming embarrassed, quickly turned his attention to Detective Lance. It was a long moment before he spoke. "I looked at you that way for a long time," Oliver answered.

Laurel smiled, almost bitterly. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I don't think so." She cleared her throat, feeling the emotion getting the better of her, but keeping the tears at bay. "It was just the once, the night of our high school prom." She laughed, sputtering through the tears that were falling. "Do you remember that awful dress I wore? I was convinced it was the most amazing thing in the world with all that tulle and glitter."

Oliver smiled softly, reaching out and nearly touching Laurel's hand, before stopping himself. "I remember I had to have my tux dry cleaned three times to get all the glitter out of it."

Her father stirred and Laurel swiped at the stray tears on her cheeks. She nodded toward the door and looked at Oliver. "You should go." Felicity was off the phone and headed back toward the room. "I'll tell him you stopped by."

Oliver smiled and nodded. He gave Laurel a quick squeeze on the shoulder before leaving.

"Laurel?" her father croaked, pulling her attention away from the door.

Laurel met his eyes, tears in her own. "Hey," she said, with a smile that was all lies.

"What's wrong?" he asked, trying to sit up.

Laurel placed her hand over her father's. "Nothing," she said with a quiet sniffle. "I'm just so happy you're awake."

"You stayed all this time?" he asked, taking in her appearance.

"Of course," she said with a smile. "Don't you know? It's you and me. Just the way it's always been."

And for the first time, when Laurel said those words, she meant them with no hint of anger or malice or sadness.


	3. Coffee and Scones

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys. I really do appreciate them! They're brightness to my soul. Reviews always leave me inclined to post more frequently. :)

Prompt: Oliver brings Felicity breakfast and notices another man.

* * *

So, he let her believe that the 'I love you' was just for Slade's benefit; even though he was sure, at the time, she'd looked at him like she knew. Like she knew that he had meant every single word that he had said about keeping her safe and Slade taking the wrong woman, but that he would be there to protect her in the end, that he would keep her safe, even though she would be in Slade's hands.

He even thought he made it clear to her on Lain Yu, when he told her that they had both sold it, that there was nothing to sell because just like her, he had fallen for real. But then, Oliver really never was one to do anything subtly. Perhaps he had to be a little more direct if he wanted to pursue things with Felicity.

She had been acting strangely around him the last several weeks though. Everything had seemingly gone back to the way it was before Slade's attack on Starling City. They spent their evenings at the lair, working to protect the citizens of Starling. Her days were spent back in the IT department of QC. She had appreciated her 'demotion' from the interim CEO; she had told Oliver as much the day it happened.

But even though everything else was back to normal, something about his relationship with Felicity was still off. He had expected things to change after their conversation on the island. With every day that passed that they didn't talk about it, a follow-up conversation seemed harder to have. Seeing her every day, though, was driving him crazy. Like the way her forehead crinkled when she concentrated on breaking through a firewall. Or the time she asked him to practice hand to hand combat with him when Diggle and Roy were out for the night. God, he wasn't even letting her get the drop on him half the time- she managed it all on her own with the intensity with which she eyed him, the determination in her stance, in her punches, in her kicks. She took his corrections in stride- every hit, every move was better, stronger, faster than the last. Just another way in which he was completely in awe of her.

It was those moments that he had been unable to get out of his mind for the last few days. Those moments that led to this one- Oliver, standing at her apartment door at 7 in the morning with coffee and blueberry scones from Felicity's favorite bakery.

He cleared his throat before knocking. It was risky, he knew, showing up out of the blue like this. She could still be in her pajamas- pink polka-dotted short shorts with a skin tight camisole- or at least that was the first thing that flashed into his mind. A thought that he immediately dismissed so as not to be even more awkward when she answered the door.

There was a faint rustling inside and then the undeniable 'click' of the lock, and then the door swung open, revealing a confused, bed-headed and yawning Felicity.

"Oliver?" she said, covering her mouth as she yawned and then pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry," he answered, taking in her appearance. "I'm too early." He shook his head, an embarrassed smile playing on his features. "I thought maybe it was too early…"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I just wasn't expecting company." She ran a hand through her hair, trying to reign in her unruly blonde locks.

Oliver raised his hands. "I brought breakfast."

Felicity gave him a tight smile. "That's uh, really sweet of you, Oliver. But I really-"

And then something behind her caught his eye. A brief movement in the hallway, a shadow that disappeared behind a wall. Oliver was in motion before he even had time to think. "Get behind me," he said, pushing past her racing toward the shadow.

"Oliver!" Felicity exclaimed, right on his heels the whole way.

"There's someone in here," Oliver said quietly, without pause. He was nearly to the bathroom now, the door slightly ajar. Felicity grabbed at his hand and the question of where he'd dropped the coffees and scones flashed through his brain just before he pushed the bathroom door open.

Oliver's legs moved faster than his brain could keep up with. He could hear Felicity calling him, and he wondered briefly why she didn't seem alarmed, but angry. All Oliver could think about, though, was keeping her safe. The incident with Slade had been more danger than he was willing to put Felicity in again, and so instead of heeding her calls, he rushed forward into the bathroom.

The man, clad only in boxers, jumped and screamed as Oliver twisted a hand behind his back. It wasn't until Oliver was standing there, staring at both his and the other man's reflections in Felicity's bathroom mirror that any sort of understanding dawned on him.

"OLIVER!" Felicity screeched again, standing in the doorway of the bathroom now, a look of indignant horror and overwhelming anger on her face.

Oliver dropped the man's arm. The other man (Oliver thought he heard Felicity call him Davis intermingled with her constant apologies), pushed past Felicity and into her bedroom, gathering his clothes in one fell swoop and rushing for the open apartment door.

Oliver exited the bathroom, crossing into the living room where Felicity was now following Davis out into the hallway. Now regretting everything about the morning, Oliver found some paper towels and cleaned up the mess on Felicity's living room floor from the spilled coffees. He placed the bag of scones on the kitchen counter just as the front door slammed behind an enraged and returned Felicity.

"What. The. HELL. Oliver?!" She demanded.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean…"

"You didn't mean to what? Embarrass me? Ruin the one healthy relationship I've managed to cultivate despite all this?" She gestured to the empty space between the two of them.

Oliver swallowed hard. "I just… I thought he was here to hurt you."

Felicity's jaw set in such anger that Oliver was sure the blood vessel in her temple (the one he always thought throbbed adorably when she got fired up) was about to burst.

"You. What?" She asked, indignant.

"I thought he broke in. That he was…" Oliver trailed off.

Felicity crossed her arms over her chest. "Because of course, there was no way that little IT girl Felicity might have someone interested in her, right?"

"No, it's not-" This was not how he had envisioned his morning going. Oliver rubbed his forehead, trying to figure out how to make this right.

"Oliver, I have put up a lot from you. But this is too far. This is WAY too far." Felicity was pacing now, clearly worked up. Oliver could feel the adrenaline still rushing around himself. He was on edge and her pacing was not helping. And she cut him off with another angry rant every time he tried to interject.

"You know you are such a hypocrite! You can parade all over with every single woman under the sun, but god forbid I have a guy spend the night- a guy that I really like, I might add." She huffed into the kitchen, grabbing the bag of scones off the counter and opening it. "Whatever case or project you came here for, I think it should wait. I can stop by the foundry later tonight if I have time."

Oliver let out a long breath and stepped forward. His tension was still running high, but what was even more- hearing her talk about a guy she 'really liked' made Oliver's stomach churn. "Felicity, I didn't come here for a case," he said finally, his voice low. "And I am sorry about what happened with your… friend." He couldn't bring himself to call the guy anything other than that. Oliver looked up, meeting her still cold and stormy eyes. "If you want me to go, I'll go." He turned, making his way to the door, feeling his final chance with her go up in smoke. "Enjoy the scones," he said, turning the handle.

"Wait," she called with a sigh. Oliver stopped, turning just enough to see her face. "If you didn't come here for a case, then why did you come?"

He spun around, leaning back against the door as he met her eyes. He shouldn't have said anything. Telling her, especially now with everything that had just happened, was not the best idea in the world.

"It's not important," he answered.

Felicity laughed without humor and moved so she was standing in front of him. "After what you just did, it sure as hell better be important," she said, arms still crossed over her chest.

She was so close now, close enough for him to see the tiny freckles on her cheeks that she usually covered up with makeup. He could feel the heat radiating from her and it made him gulp down the words that burned in his throat. No words could express everything he came here to tell her.

Their lips crashed together in a movement so quick that Oliver nearly surprised himself with it, even though he initiated it. And when she wrapped her arms around his neck, he grinned against her lips because he knew they had both waited so long for this moment, and now it was finally here. And just like that nothing else mattered- not the spilled coffee or the fake but not really fake I love you. Not her date that he'd scared off or the fact that she was obviously never going to let him live down the way that he had scared off said date. Right there, with Felicity in his arms and her lips pressed hungrily to his, the two of them were all that mattered in the world.

When they finally broke apart they were both breathing heavy. Felicity's cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling. He'd somehow managed to get her up onto the kitchen counter, although he hadn't remembered doing it. From this vantage point they were the same height and she rested her forehead against his.

"That," Oliver said finally. "Is why I came here."

"Oh," Felicity answered, almost shyly. She bit her bottom lip and pulled her head away from his. She made no effort to move off the counter, but picked up the bag again, tearing off a small piece of the scone and popping it into her mouth. She met Oliver's eyes again. "You know what would go great with these scones?" she asked. Oliver shrugged. "Some of that coffee you spilled all over my floor when you mistook my date for an intruder."

Oliver groaned as he watched her smirk. Yeah, he was sure of it now- that was one story he'd never live down.


	4. Shelter and Storm

Prompt: "She calls my name as shelter, not realizing I am the storm." - Unknown

Diggle came charging into the Arrow cave, where Oliver sat silently behind the desk of computers, doing research on the new investor trying to take over Queen Consolidated. They had fought and defeated Slade just a few short weeks ago, but the city and the Arrow Team alike were still reeling from its aftermath. Oliver glanced over his shoulder.

"You knew about this, didn't you?" Diggle asked, waving a piece of paper in his hand.

Oliver turned his attention back to the computers. "To what, Mr. Diggle, are you referring?" Oliver asked, his tone cool and even, although he knew exactly what his friend meant.

"Don't play this game with me Oliver," Diggle said back, harsh. "We need her, you know that. So why would you just let her leave?"

Anger rippled within him, just under the surface, and Oliver had to bite back any remark that was on the tip of his tongue. He took a deep breath before replying, keeping his emotions in check. "Felicity feels it best to—"

"No," Diggle interrupted. "Felicity feels like you used her to get to Slade. And I can't say that I blame her." He moved around the computers so he was in Oliver's line of vision. "She told me what happened at the mansion."

"I did what I had to do." In all honesty, Oliver felt terrible for saying what he had to Felicity. He knew now that she felt like he had been playing with her emotions, that he was preying on her feelings to sell the story. In that moment when he told her that he loved her, he hadn't realized how true those words were until they were out of his mouth. The problem was once the words were out, he couldn't get them back again. His only option now was to let her believe the lie, or risk putting her in more danger by telling her the truth.

"Why are you doing this, man?" Diggle asked, shoving the letter into Oliver's face.

"I didn't tell her to go, Dig!" Oliver stood, angrily, fists slamming onto the desk. It was the first loss of emotional control he'd had since finding out that Felicity was leaving. He hadn't expected her to leave, even after everything he had put her through. And although Diggle had gotten a letter to explain her reasons, she had showed up at the newly renovated lair a few days earlier to talk to Oliver about it. She had asked him to explain himself, saying that it had been eating away at her— why he would say that he loved her. Oliver knew what she was expecting. She was expecting him to tell her that he was sorry for saying it, that he wanted to sell it to Slade and hadn't meant to hurt her. And to be honest, that was what she deserved.

But Oliver couldn't bring himself to apologize for saying it. Every time he tried, the words stuck in his throat. Felicity was the one person he couldn't lie to anymore. He had lost so much, nearly every person in his life that he loved was gone. Slade had killed his mother, Thea was gone, Sara was gone. It only seemed appropriate that Felicity leave him too. And in some ways, even though he knew he shouldn't, he felt like it was only what he deserved. After everything he had done, how could anyone who knew the truth about him want to love him?

"You didn't tell her to stay, either," Diggle answered. "Did you?"

Oliver sighed, moving away from the computer screens and toward his bow. He picked it up, remembering the weight of it in his hand the first time he'd held it. Felicity had gotten that bow for him. He swallowed hard, remembering her showing up on Lian Yu to get him after Tommy died. All the hard work she had put into upgrading the Arrow Cave during that year he was gone. His desire for target practice was liquidated and he set the bow back down again, turning to face Diggle.

"It's complicated," Oliver said, wiping a hand down his face. "She says my name like shelter. But I'm not. I'm the storm."

"You say that like you think you're protecting her," Diggle said, folding Felicity's note back up and sticking it in his jacket pocket. "But all you're really doing is trying to protect yourself."

And with that, Diggle turned and headed for the stairs. Anger swelled and swarmed Oliver until it was all he could do not to tear the place apart. He reached for the nearest table, covered in tennis balls and arrows. At first it was just to steady himself, but when another wave of anger and fear hit him, he pulled the table top, upending it and sending the contents sprawling across the floor, everything clattering and clanging as they found new resting places on the cold concrete.

The distinct clack of her high heels on the floor made him tense instantly. She had seen it; but how much of it?

"Oliver?" her voice was quiet, a nearly breathless question in the electric air.

He turned to face her, eyes dragging up from the floor to rake over her body, one last time. "You weren't supposed to see that," he said, his voice and demeanor stone again.

"Did you ever think that perhaps you're both?" she asked, taking a few more steps toward him.

"Both what?" he asked, confused. His brain hadn't caught up with the situation yet, still reeling from the fact that she'd just seen him lose control the way he had.

"Shelter," she said. One step closer. "And storm." Another step closer. She was directly in front of him now, their breath mingling in the small space between them. He reached out to touch her, but she stepped back and swallowed hard. "Please don't," she said, voice ragged. "Because if you do…"

He searched her eyes, looking for the resolve he'd seen when they last spoke face to face, when she told him she was leaving. But there was no resolve now. No contempt. No anger.

"Felicity," he said, breath hitching in his chest. He reached out and grabbed her hand now, not able to let her go without one more touch. "Don't."

The word hung in the air, filling all of the empty space around them. It was his last stand, his final plea.

"Don't what?" she asked.

"Don't go…" his voice rasped as he breathed the words. "The team… the team needs you, Felicity." He paused and then added. "I need you."

Her eyes betrayed nothing. She gulped, watching him carefully. It was like she was battling with herself and wasn't sure which side would win. "Why?" she asked finally.

Oliver smiled, his free hand reaching up to brush her cheek. "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Felicity Smoak, you are remarkable."

Felicity smiled and pulled back, a hint of pink blushing her cheeks. She cleared her throat turning toward the computers. "So, I've been doing some research on the new potential CEO," she said, taking up her seat as if she had never left it. "And I think I have an idea on how to get you the company back."

Oliver bit back a grin. He shook his head and bent to pick up the scattered items on the floor. The first thing his hand rested on was the bow from Felicity that he had grabbed earlier. No, he thought to himself, remarkable didn't even begin to cover it.


End file.
